


Dear Diary

by threeturn



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Drinking Games, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Alternating, Phone Sex, White House era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 23:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeturn/pseuds/threeturn
Summary: Just before he leaves the White House, Jon Lovett learns a secret. Jon Favreau copes with the aftermath.





	1. Going Away Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [herstrionics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herstrionics/gifts).



> This is a Fandom Loves Puerto Rico story for the wonderful [herstrionics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herstrionics), who wanted Dan to let slip a particular secret ♥ I am SUPER grateful to [ymorton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton) and [disarm_d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarm_d), my guiding lights, for all their encouragement and wise counsel.

It was two am at Jon Lovett's going away party. The lights were low. Tommy had put on a playlist that seemed to alternate between the sad guitar men he liked when he was mourning lost love, and the rap he liked when he was doing push-ups shirtless in the living room. He and Jon were sprawled on the floor with Cody and Kristen, reminiscing about the 2008 campaign. This was a topic Lovett found alienating. He was on the sofa with Dan, who was listing gently sideways.

"Hey, Dan," said Lovett.

"Mmmm?" said Dan, who had been staying up late ever since splitting from Sarah, but still wasn't very good at it.

"Don't you think it's weird how this is my going away party, but no one is paying any attention to me?"

Dan looked at him blearily. "S'your going away party? I thought everyone just ended up here when the bar closed."

"I'm leaving DC in less than three weeks," said Lovett. "Every social event that occurs between now and September 19 is my going away party."

There was a crash from over by the rug, where Tommy and Jon now seemed to be wrestling each other in drunken slow motion while Kristen and Cody yelled encouragement.

Lovett rolled his eyes. "Show-offs."

"Typical," Dan agreed.

"'Look at me, I'm Jon Favreau, I like to put my long muscled body all over my best friend's long muscled body for no reason except to hurt others.'"

"Just like Iowa," said Dan.

"Exactly, like Iowa!" Lovett said. "Wait, what?"

Dan waved vaguely at the group on the rug, where Tommy was high-fiving Cody as if he'd just won an epic victory while Favs laughed, red-faced. "You know, back when they were hooking up."

Lovett waited a moment for his brain to explain what his ears had actually heard instead of what they thought they heard, and then said, carefully, "Excuse me?"

"You know," said Dan. He laughed. "Man, 2007 was crazy."

"What the fuck," said Lovett, and then, so as not to scare Dan silent, "it sure was!"

"Like when they'd be late for the bus in the morning?" Dan carried on with cheerful drunken enthusiasm. "Totally obvious why. But I bet they told you all about that."

"Absolutely," Lovett said, through gritted teeth. "When it comes to their secret sex hijinks, Jon and Tommy just can't shut up."

Dan squinted at Tommy and Jon, then turned back to Lovett. "This one time we were in my hotel room working out a messaging strategy for health care policy? And Tommy was like, hold on, Jon wrote something up about this last night. And they went to go get Jon's laptop and when they came back they were wearing each other's shirts. It was so cute."

"Adorable," said Lovett. He was going to kill them both. "How long did this go on?"

"Well now, I'm not sure," said Dan, sounding befuddled. "We won and then there was the transition and then we were at the White House and I'm not sure what happened. They date girls now though."

"Yes," said Lovett. "They certainly do."

"Tommy was gonna get married!" Dan added.

"That I did know," said Lovett.

"Marriage is hard," said Dan mournfully.

"I'm sorry, Dan," said Lovett, because he was.

Dan stretched and then got to his feet, a little unsteadily. "Well, I’m gonna head out."

"Oh," said Lovett. "You don't have any more memories to share?"

"Like you don't know all this stuff already," said Dan. "You guys are so close. You're lucky, you know? The three of you, you never have to be lonely." Dan looked like he was about to cry.

"Right," said Lovett. "Happy all the time with my best friends who tell me everything."

"God, that's great," said Dan. He gave Lovett a little drunken salute and then went over to Tommy and Jon to say his good-byes.

"I'm going away too," said Lovett loudly. "I'm moving to LA."

But no one noticed, because everyone was saying good-bye to Dan instead.

 

*

 

By the time Lovett shuffled into the kitchen for his going away breakfast the next morning, Tommy had already returned from his run and was using the blender to make something nutritious and disgusting.

"Morning!" said Tommy.

"Ugh, take a shower," said Lovett, eyeing the giant sweat circles on Tommy's chest and back.

"I will in a minute," said Tommy cheerfully. "You sleep okay?"

"I slept fine," said Lovett, "considering the drunken orgy occurring down the hall."

"I must've missed the orgy part," said Tommy. He flipped the switch on the coffee maker. "Got some dark roast for you coming right up."

"Come to LA with me and be my coffee butler," said Lovett. He sat down at the kitchen table and started sorting out pieces of the Sunday _Post_.

"I would," said Tommy, "but I'm busy working on behalf of global stability." He drank half his protein shake, throwing back his head and gulping.

"You know what helps me feel globally stable?" Lovett asked. "My friends being open with me."

"Lovett, I promise you don't wanna know half the shit I know."

"I'm don't mean, like, issues of national security," said Lovett. "If something personally significant happened, would you tell me?"

Tommy set down his glass on the counter. "Of course, dude. You remember when Katie and I broke up…you were one of the first people to know."

"Jon knew before I did," Lovett pointed out.

Tommy ignored this. "When I told you, you were sympathetic and supportive, and I appreciated it very much."

"Yeah, well, I'm a very sympathetic and supportive person," said Lovett. "That's why my friends always tell me everything."

"Exactly," said Tommy, patting Lovett on the shoulder on his way to the shower.

"Ew, don't get sweat on me!" Lovett put his hand to his shoulder where Tommy had touched it. There was in fact no trace of perspiration, which was just one more way Tommy had disappointed him.

 

*

 

It was Monday at the White House, and Lovett was at his desk giving his boss a progress report on the federal land preservation remarks he was writing. "So basically I'm almost done," he finished.

"Read me what you've got," said Jon, sitting down on the edge of Lovett's desk.

"I don't feel comfortable with that," said Lovett. "How about I put it on your desk as soon as I nail the last couple sentences?"

Jon rolled his eyes and picked up Lovett's diary. "I just wanna see—Lo, what the hell is this?"

"An invasion of privacy," said Lovett. "Jon, respect my process."

Jon peered at the open page. "Your process is a spec script?"

"A spec script about a hilarious, underappreciated speechwriter who is writing some remarks on federal land preservation," Lovett argued. "You're gonna love it!"

"Love what?" asked Tommy, who had appeared in the doorway.

"My work product," said Lovett, snatching his diary back. "How was your meeting, Tommy?"

Tommy, who was looking even paler than usual, just shook his head.

"Look how dedicated and diligent our Tommy is," said Jon to Lovett. "Unlike some people."

"This is why I'm leaving," said Lovett, trying to figure out if Jon and Tommy were sending each other secret sex glances. "The rampant favoritism."

"Lovett is spending his last two weeks malingering," Jon explained to Tommy.

"The preferred term is 'burnishing my legacy'," Lovett corrected.

"Sounds very professional," said Tommy. "You guys wanna get lunch?"

"Only if I'm invited," Lovett said, narrowing his eyes at Tommy. "Maybe you two would rather be alone."

"Anyone would think we were the ones running off to LA," said Jon.

"Oh, now you wanna run off together," said Lovett.

"To the Navy Mess, yes," said Tommy. "Are you coming?"

"Hold on," said Lovett. He flipped his diary back open to write one more line of sparkling dialogue. _Tough to be a man of truth in a town of lies_ , his protagonist said to the handsome deceivers who surrounded him. Then he closed the notebook. "I'm ready for my going away lunch now."

 

*

 

"So I was having lunch with Jon and Tommy," Lovett told Dan later that afternoon.

"Uh-huh," said Dan, who was behind his desk acting like the papers in front of him were really important or something.

"And you know that thing you were talking about at my going away party?"

"Lovett, I have a meeting with Bill Daley in twenty."

"I'll make this quick then. Do you think they're still doing it?"

Dan massaged his forehead. "What are we talking about again?"

"Jon and Tommy!" said Lovett. "You should've seen the way they were looking at each other at lunch. I was like, do I need to marry you two in the Rose Garden? Because I can and I will, I've done it before."

"You've married Jon and Tommy before?"

"No!" said Lovett. "My god, Dan, keep up. My point is, you and I know intimately well just how much they once meant to each other. You know because you saw it, and obviously I know because they would never keep anything from me."

"Lovett, I think this isn't really the time or the place—"

"I'm moving to LA tomorrow, Dan! I don't have time to wait!"

Dan looked confused. "I thought your last day was the nineteenth."

"It's a metaphor! The point is, I think we should compare what we know in detail, and you should go first."

Dan said, "I do know I have some jobs numbers here I should be looking over."

"You're more fun when you're drunk," said Lovett. "Do you want a drink?"

"Are you propositioning me?" Dan asked. "Because if you're leaving tomorrow—"

"No!" said Lovett. "Wait, do you think that would make Jon and Tommy jealous?"

"I was kidding," said Dan.

"Wow," said Lovett. "Maybe leave the jokes to the professionals. I'm trying to have a serious conversation here."

"About some nonsense on a campaign bus four years ago."

"They did it on the _bus_?" Lovett tried to modulate his voice. "I mean, of course they did. Stop trying to wangle information out of me, Dan."

Dan shuffled his papers. "I'm beginning to get the impression that under the influence of alcohol I disclosed something about which I should have remained silent."

"It's okay," said Lovett. "I won't tell them you told me."

 

*

 

Lovett was lying on Jon's sofa after their going away dinner, watching Jon tidy up all the containers of Chinese food.

"It's too bad Tommy had to work late," Lovett said.

"Yep!" said Jon. "Lot going on right now."

"Did you know he hardly ever brings girls home?"

"Is that right?" Jon sounded bored, but maybe that was just because stacking cartons of leftovers in the refrigerator wasn't very interesting.

"If I were National Security Spokesman," Lovett mused, "I would be getting laid constantly. I would be like, hi boys, the missiles launch tomorrow, let's fuck to feel alive."

"Tommy might find that unethical," Jon pointed out.

"You have a very high opinion of Tommy, but I happen to live with him. I think he'd be a lot happier if he just found a girl, told her they had to find a nuclear shelter immediately, and didn't emerge for twenty-four hours."

"I think Tommy's trying to take it easy on dating for awhile," said Jon.

Lovett peered at him suspiciously. "You seem to know a lot about Tommy's dating plans. I suppose that's a feature of your heterosexual bond."

"Probably," said Jon.

"You two have always been very close," Lovett went on.

"Sure," said Jon.

"Like at my going away party."

"Your going away party is next week, Lovett."

"The one last weekend," said Lovett. "When you were rolling all over each other."

"Oh, that," said Jon.

"'Oh, that,'" mimicked Lovett. "You might as well have been naked and oiled. What a display."

"It was like two seconds of arm wrestling," said Jon.

"You never do anything like that with me," observed Lovett. "Which is homophobic."

"Which is realistic," said Jon. "Imagine what you'd do if I challenged you to arm wrestle."

"Scream and run away," Lovett admitted.

"Okay then," said Jon, and flopped down on the floor, leaning back against the sofa.

Lovett looked at the back of his dark, handsome head. "Have _you_ been seeing anyone?"

"Not really," Jon said. "Not since Lyddie from OMB."

"She wasn't good enough for you," said Lovett immediately. "Completely not your type."

"Which is what, exactly?"

"Well, you know," said Lovett. "Basically blond and WASPy and high-strung and devoted to making the world a better place."

"I would totally date someone who wasn't blond and WASPy!" Jon said.

"Obama doesn't count," Lovett pointed out.

"Well, it's not like I can date Obama," said Jon, in the tones of someone who's given an idea a great deal of thought before finally setting it aside as unfeasible.

"Right," said Lovett. "So who's left? Think about it."

"Uh…lots of people?"

"Well, jeez," said Lovett. "Congratulations on being a giant slut."

Jon turned around to face him. "Lo, are you worried about leaving or something?"

"No," said Lovett, blinking. Jon's face was too close to his. "Why would you say that?"

"Because you're being, like, super weird."

"I only want you to be happy," said Lovett.

"You just called me a slut!"

"Supportively," said Lovett. "I would always accept you for who you are."

"Well, I'm a person who has no idea what you're talking about," said Jon.

 

*

 

Lovett was lying on his bed making a few notes. He was all alone in the apartment, because Tommy was working late again, even though he only had two more weeks to be Lovett's roommate and should have been appreciating every last precious minute. But that was fine. Lovett had work to do.

 _Dear Diary_ , Lovett wrote. _Still haunted by electrifying revelation. Dan clamming up like a crooked Nixon aide. I need a John Dean to crack this thing wide open. Try Alyssa?_

He paused and chewed his pen.

_New pitch for NBC: Torrid romance on the campaign trail. Two young men meet in a Senate office. Handsome and idealistic, they seem to lead charmed lives. Yet they share a secret–a secret so explosive it could bring down a presidency._

Lovett reread this claim doubtfully. Maybe it would be better to play it for laughs.

_In this sweet, sexy romp, two young campaign operatives fall in love, resulting in a fast-paced comedy of errors as they attempt to keep their relationship under wraps._

Or go for social realism.

_Two young men try to keep their faith in hope and change when homophobia forces them to keep their love a secret._

His script wouldn't shy away from the dark underbelly here.

_A secret even from their gay best friend, who would have been completely understanding and supportive!_

Obviously the best friend character would be the innocent victim in all this.

_Heartbroken by his friends' failure to trust him, the gay best friend leaves to start a new life on his own and becomes incredibly famous and successful._

Lovett was beginning to feel like this would be a hard sell to NBC. He'd probably have to wait until he had a few Emmys under his belt and then reconceive the whole thing as a Showtime miniseries. Still, it wouldn't hurt to sketch out the basics of the storyline.

_[INT: A hotel bathroom. NILS is taking a shower. Enter BEAU.]_

_NILS: Who's there?_

_BEAU: It's me, Beau._

_NILS: But I'm taking a shower. I don't have any clothes on._

_BEAU: I just wanted to tell you, I loved the way you put that reporter in his place._

_NILS [poking head out of the shower, blond eyelashes spangled with water]: Oh, thank you._

_BEAU: You were affable but firm at the same time._

_NILS: Dude, guess what else is firm?_

Lovett heard the front door open and close. "I'm home!" Tommy called.

"No one cares!" Lovett hollered back. He flipped to a new page for a different scene.

_NILS [wiping his sticky hand on a "Hope and Change" sign]: Who is allowed to know we just jerked each other off backstage at a campaign rally?_

_BEAU: Only our Communications Director and everyone else working on this campaign with us._

_NILS: Good. You know that Hillary speechwriter we had to talk to after The Incident?_

_BEAU: The cute, smart, funny one?_

_NILS: Yeah. Let's not tell him._

_BEAU: We wouldn't want him to think we were gay or something._

_NILS: Exactly. What if he tried to seduce one of us? No thank you._

Lovett put down his notebook, drew his legs up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around his knees so that he was a cute, smart, funny little ball.

"Did you eat?" Tommy called.

"Like you care!"

Tommy knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Only if you tell me a secret," Lovett said.

The door opened. "Hey, Lovett." Tommy was unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. Probably Jon used to unbutton that shirt for him. Then maybe he kissed the hollow of Tommy's throat.

"What's the secret?" Lovett asked.

Tommy smiled at him. "You're a genius and you're gonna make it big in LA."

"Some secret," Lovett sniffed. "Everyone knows _that_."

 

*

 

At eleven pm on Monday, September 19, 2011, Lovett was sitting on his living room floor with Jon and Tommy and a number of beer cans and a bottle of Jameson's. His suitcase for the next day was by the door.

"I'm in a weakened state," said Lovett. "So I'm going to confess that I felt a little sad turning in my badge today."

"We know," said Jon gently.

"Because we literally saw you crying in the hallway," said Tommy.

"Shut up and appreciate my vulnerability at my going away party, Tommy," said Lovett.

"Your going away party was three days ago," said Jon.

"That party was for the unwashed masses," said Lovett. "Tonight is a more intimate occasion. An opportunity for honesty and accountability." He stared at them meaningfully.

Jon sighed. "Which joke do you feel like you didn't get enough credit for?"

"All of them, that's not the point." Lovett picked up the whiskey bottle and held it in the air like the Statue of Liberty's torch. "We're gonna have to play a drinking game."

"I would genuinely rather compliment your jokes for an hour," said Tommy.

"I know you're gonna suggest flip cup, so you two can take your shirts off—"

Jon held up his hand. "There's no actual connection between flip cup and shirtlessness."

"There is in my diary," said Lovett. "Regardless, I'm flying out of here tomorrow and you have to humor me because you might never see me again. Therefore, we will now play Never Have I Ever."

"Just one normal evening, please," said Tommy. "I have a very stressful job and I just want one completely ordinary Monday night spending quality time with my two best friends before I wake up tomorrow at five am."

"Perfect," said Lovett, lining up shot glasses. "Nothing is more friendly and normal than Never Have I Ever."

"Are you actually gonna do shots too?" Jon asked. "Or are you gonna make us get shitfaced while you sip your Miller Lite?"

"I don't expect to need to do shots," said Lovett loftily. "My experiences are beyond either of your imaginations." He poured a shot for Tommy and a shot for Jon. "Tommy, you go first."

"For fuck's sake," said Tommy. He thought a moment. "All right. Never have I ever…caused a nuclear incident."

Lovett and Jon looked at each other. "Tommy," said Lovett. "I don't think you know how to play this game."

"I do too!" said Tommy. "But I couldn't think of anything right away so I just used an item from my reasons I'm not a total failure list instead."

Jon looked horrified. "That's crazy, Tom. You're good at literally everything."

"Except drinking games," said Lovett. "Don't put that one on your list, Tommy."

Tommy gave him the finger. "Your turn, Jon."

Jon closed his eyes as if he was thinking deeply. "Never have I ever…stopped believing that optimism can be the driving force behind a winning electoral coalition."

Lovett groaned. "God, you both suck at this."

Jon pointed at him. "Cynicism!"

"I thought that was inspiring, Jon," said Tommy.

"Oh, please," said Lovett. "I can't believe I have to do everything around here."

"Okay, genius," said Jon. "Show us how it's done."

"Thank you, I will," said Lovett. He cracked open a new can of Miller Lite. "Never have I ever…hooked up on the campaign trail!"

He took a sip of his Miller Lite, in order to be fair, and watched Jon and Tommy shrug and drink.

"Now who doesn't know how to play?" said Jon. "You're not supposed to say something you've done yourself."

"I was setting you at your ease," said Lovett. "Try this then: never have I ever…hooked up on the Obama campaign specifically!"

Tommy and Jon drank.

"You're not looking at each other or high-fiving," Lovett observed. "Why is that?"

"You know what? It's my turn," said Tommy. "Never have I ever…fucked a Republican congressional aide and claimed it was an undercover operation."

"Wow, low blow," said Lovett, and drank.

Jon cleared his throat and darted a glance at Tommy. "Never have I ever…been the best National Security Spokesman in history."

"Oh my god," Lovett moaned. "What is wrong with you two?"

"Someone's not drinking who should be drinking," said Jon.

"Stop, Jon," said Tommy, cheeks pink.

Jon picked up Tommy's drink and leaned over to him and put the shot glass up to his lips. "Tom." Tommy looked at him for a moment and then opened his mouth obediently, letting Jon tip the glass for him to drink. A stray drop spilled, and Jon caught it with his finger.

"You're both out of control," Lovett said. He took a deep breath. "Never have I ever hooked up on the Obama campaign with one of my best bros."

"Lovett," said Tommy. "What the hell is this?"

"Never have I ever hooked up on the campaign trail with a bro named _Tommy_! Never have I ever hooked up on the campaign trail with a bro named _Jon_!"

"Ohhhh, fuck," said Jon.

"Drink, you assholes! Drink!"

Tommy seemed like he might be about to speak. Then he glanced over at Jon, picked up his drink and tossed it back instead.

Jon shook his head and drank. "Listen, Lovett…"

"No, you listen," said Lovett. "I have a couple more. Never have I ever kept an extremely relevant secret from my best friend. Never have I ever let my best friend make a fool of himself for four years thinking he knows me. Never have I ever—"

"Lovett, calm down!" Tommy was leaning forward. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like, exactly? Because I've been trying for weeks to trick you two into revealing everything but you're too dumb to notice all my subtle hints."

"First of all," said Jon, "we weren't actively hiding it from you."

"We weren't?" Tommy looked confused.

"I knew it," said Lovett. "Thanks for coming clean, double oh closet case."

"Don't call Tommy that," said Jon. "Look, there's just never been a really good time to bring it up."

"I complain about how straight you are _daily_ ," said Lovett. "At any point you could have said, excuse you Lovett, it didn't feel heterosexual when I was blowing Tommy Fucking Vietor backstage at the Pepsi Center."

"Well, technically—" Tommy began, and then broke off, red-faced.

"Or the other way around, obviously," said Lovett. "Are you still at it? Or is this like, oops, misspent youth, I tripped and fell on Jon Favreau's dick, good thing I've put all that behind me!"

"We're not—still at it," said Tommy. "Christ, Lovett, I was engaged, you think we've been, what, secretly hooking up this whole time?"

"I don't know!" said Lovett. "I don't know anything about you, apparently."

"Look," said Tommy. "It's just—campaigns are very…exciting and stressful. You get caught up. Right, Jon?"

Jon was picking at the label of the whiskey bottle. "Sure. Not a big deal. Long time ago."

" _So_ long ago!" Tommy agreed. "We barely even remember."

Jon looked stricken. "We don't even think about it."

"We're really good friends!" Tommy practically shouted.

"Whatever, you weirdos," said Lovett. "Anyway, I know why you didn't tell me but it's stupid because I never would've like, bothered you."

"Bothered us?" Tommy was pouring himself another shot.

"I mean, I wouldn't have hit on you," said Lovett. "I only sexually harass my friends if they're totally straight and unavailable. So it was really stupid of you not to tell me just because you wanted to make sure you wouldn't have to _deal_ with me."

Jon was shaking his head. "Lovett, stop—"

"I'm not a fucking predator!" yelled Lovett. "And I'm not an idiot either!" His eyes were tearing up. "And I'm moving to LA, so you don't have to worry about me anymore. You don't exclude me, I exclude you first! So there!"

"Oh my god," said Jon. "Dude, no. I was never worried about that."

"Never," Tommy agreed. "It was dumb not to tell you but it definitely wasn't about making sure you wouldn't, um, hit on me."

"Then why?"

"Um. Lovett, wasn't there ever a period in your own life when you were, like, confused about stuff, and it was just easier to focus on…other things?"

"Don't distract me from your betrayal with an appeal to queer solidarity," said Lovett. "I'm not that easy."

"The point is we're sorry," said Jon.

Tommy nodded vigorously. "We'll never do it again."

"Really," said Lovett. "You'll never hook up with Jon without telling me again?"

"He meant—we'll never keep important information from you again," Jon said.

"Unless it's a matter of national security," Tommy pointed out.

"I need a more specific commitment," said Lovett.

"Is that really necessary?" said Tommy. "I mean, we've both moved on."

"Totally," said Jon. "Tommy really just likes women now anyway."

"Jon dates women too!" said Tommy. "Like, so many women."

Lovett narrowed his eyes. "I think you two might need to talk."

"We talk all the time!" said Tommy. There was an edge of hysteria in his voice.

"Uh-huh," said Lovett. "Promise me you'll tell me everything about your fucked-up bullshit in future or I'll name names in my White House tell-all."

Tommy and Jon looked at each other. Then Tommy shrugged. "I'll never hook up with Jon again without telling you. Okay?"

"Jon has to promise too," said Lovett sulkily.

"I promise," said Jon.

"Good," said Lovett. "We can go back to Never Have I Ever now."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"It's okay, I have a good one," said Jon.

"I hope it's dirty," said Lovett. "I hope you finally figured out how to play."

"Yeah, I think I got it now," said Jon. He lifted up his glass. "Lovett. Never have I ever…missed anyone the way I'm going to miss you."

Then Jon and Tommy both drank.


	2. Anything Me

On the morning of Tuesday, September 20, Jon Favreau wakes up with an uneasy feeling that something bad is about to happen. Because his head is aching, it takes a moment to remember that the bad thing is Lovett leaving. At least Lovett eventually forgave him enough to let Jon hug him before Jon left last night. Lovett didn't even complain when Jon didn't let go right away. He just held on tight.

Jon checks the time. Tommy's probably already driving Lovett to the airport while Lovett badgers him with questions. Jon's mostly glad he has a meeting with POTUS scheduled so he doesn't have to hear any more of the answers. He understands that Tommy hooked up with him like he wore a red velour tracksuit for the Jefferson-Jackson sign war: it was a fun novelty that had nothing to do with real life. Jon decides not to bring it up to Tommy again, which is why it's ten am and there's a speech draft on his desk with notes from POTUS in the margin before he types a nice neutral _Everything go okay?_ to Tommy on his personal phone and hits send.

There's no immediate answer, which is fine, because obviously Tommy had to drive back from DCA and into work and find a parking place and confront the mountain of tasks that builds up when you get into work hours late because you had to drive your roommate to the airport. Anyway, Jon has to conduct a team meeting and hand out assignments for the next two weeks and when he checks his phone after that, there's a _Yeah_ waiting for him. Which doesn't feel like enough information somehow.

 _Did Lovett cry?_ Jon texts, when he gets back to his office.

 _Not until we got to the check-in_ , Tommy sends back.

Jon stares at his phone, biting his lip.

Then he types, _Did he harass you about us?_

The "us" feels like a little too much, but Tommy sends back _It's Lovett._ Which means yes.

_What did you say_

_Same thing I said last night_

_That you don't remember anything?_

_Come on Jon_

Jon grips his phone harder. He's never been in a fight with Tommy. Not ever. When Tommy doesn't want to talk, Jon doesn't push. But then another text from Tommy comes in.

_Said I'd keep my promise_

Jon stares at the words. _The promise to tell him if we do it again?_ He can't tell if Tommy's saying there's even a possibility—

 _Yeah_ , Tommy texts back. And then: _lol_

Jon narrows his eyes at the lol, because what the fuck does that mean? Before he can think of what to say, Tommy sends another message. _Gtg, meeting with Ben_.

Jon kicks a leg of his desk and sits down to look at his notes from POTUS. Progress is slow. It's weird to work without Lovett down the hall. He thinks about Tommy texting _Come on Jon_ like Jon's some kind of pest. He considers how busy Tommy is right now, listening to Ben talk about Libya, and digs his phone back out of his pocket anyway. _I remember a few things,_ he texts to Tommy, because apparently he is a pest after all.

An hour later, Tommy sends back _You told Lovett you didn't even think about it anymore_

Jon ignores this. _Like that night in Chicago when we stayed too late at the office_

Tommy texts back, _We always stayed too late_

Jon thinks of him and Tommy at the campaign office, going over the new stump speech until it was so late none of the words made sense anymore. He thinks of leaning into Tommy without realizing it, then going still when he felt Tommy's cautious hand on his side. That night they touched each other without looking, without saying anything at all.  

 _I remember the hotel room in_ _Dubuque_ , Jon texts. Then he takes a call from Dan on his Blackberry and goes to lunch with Cody. He gets back to his office and there's still no answer from Tommy.

 _I remember your freckles_ , Jon sends. They'd been a surprise, the first time they'd changed in the same room, hurrying out of their jeans and t-shirts to dress for a fundraiser. Tommy had pulled off his shirt and Jon had seen the freckles scattered across his skin, a secret he'd never even guessed at. He'd looked and then he'd looked too long, and Tommy had seen him looking.

 _I remember your hands_ , Jon texts a little later, so that Tommy doesn't think he just has some kind of freckle fetish. In 2007, Tommy had touched Jon like he couldn't believe Jon was real. Then they won and Tommy stopped, as if it was all some kind of temporary necessary magic they needed for the campaign, and after they won, they didn't have to do it anymore. Tommy said that campaigns were wild, and it was amazing how many questions you had to answer for a security clearance, and probably they should just concentrate on the transition and not get distracted. Half a year later Tommy started going out with girls sometimes, so Jon did too. And then Tommy was engaged, and Jon felt incredibly stupid. How embarrassing, for your best friend to be about to get married, and to still think what you did together counted. How unimportant, how irrelevant, being kissed by Tommy Vietor turned out to have been.

It doesn't matter anymore, so Jon texts, _I remember your mouth_. Then he puts his phone in a drawer and slams it shut. POTUS doesn't employ him to sexually harass the national security staff. They'll go for a drink after work and Jon will apologize to Tommy. He'll blame Lovett and his hangover and maybe the Tea Party. For now he'll take a walk, he decides, in the opposite direction from Ben Rhodes's office. But when he opens his door, Tommy's already standing there, fist poised to knock.

"Look, I'm sorry," says Jon, stepping back so Tommy can come in. "I don't know, I'm in a mood, it's Lovett's fault."

"What a jerk," Tommy agrees. He closes the door behind him. Now that Tommy's right here in front of him, a solid, gray-suited reality, everything Jon texted to him seems objectively deranged.

"Just—delete the texts, okay?" Jon says. "Forget it."

"I thought we were remembering things today," says Tommy.

"Tommy—"

But Tommy's already kissing him. Jon is so surprised he stumbles back against his desk before he can kiss Tommy back. Tommy steadies Jon, lifts his head, worried. "You don't want to? I thought—"

"No," says Jon, confused, and then "I mean yes, fuck, of course I—"

"Sometimes I can't believe you date movie stars," says Tommy, and leans in again. Jon opens his mouth to him and everything about the kiss—the way Tommy's lips move on his, the taste of his tongue, Tommy's thumb on his cheek—is familiar and strange at the same time. Jon presses himself close to Tommy's body and Tommy lets out a strangled-sounding breath and holds him hard.

"God, I want to," Jon says, and he lets Tommy push his suit jacket off his shoulders and run his hands over Jon's chest. "But lock the fucking door." Tommy reaches back to turn the catch without taking his eyes off Jon. Jon wants to give him something to look at. He wants to do whatever the magic thing is that will keep Tommy right here. Instead, he sits on the edge of his desk and says, "You didn't text me back."

Tommy walks up to him until he's standing between Jon's legs. "You sent me those texts while I was in with Tom Donilon," Tommy says. "I was a little preoccupied with the Arab Spring. Can I—" He tugs at Jon's shirt.

Jon yanks his shirt out of his pants for him in answer. He wants to be naked for Tommy and instead they're here in the White House basement and he's still wearing a tightly knotted red tie. "I'm sorry I kept—" It's hard to talk when Tommy's reaching up under his shirt, touching his bare skin. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You were driving me fucking nuts," says Tommy, and kisses him again. Jon touches Tommy's hair, his neck, the broad stretch of his back. He tightens his thighs around Tommy's legs. He's already so hard. Tommy reaches between them, his hand on the bulge in Jon's pants. "Is this what you remember?" He unbuttons the top button of Jon's pants, unzips him. "Is this what you can't shut up about?"

"Jesus, Tommy," says Jon, and then, "yes," in case there was any doubt. His shirt's pulled up, his pants are undone, his dick's in Tommy's hand. Meanwhile Tommy's fully dressed and looks completely normal, except for his red cheeks. "Same as before, right?"

"Right," says Tommy, and his eyes meet Jon's before sliding away.

"So are you gonna do it or not?" Jon bucks up impatiently in Tommy's hand.

"Yeah," says Tommy. He licks his palm and starts jerking Jon off.

"Fuck." Jon slides forward on the desk, grabs clumsily for Tommy's belt buckle. Tommy's hard, he can feel it. "Let me…"

"Yeah—Jon—" Tommy's breathless now as Jon takes him out. Jon can't help moaning when he feels Tommy's big dick in his hand. It's been so fucking long—it's been—

"I remember your cock," says Jon, and Tommy makes a choked-off noise against his mouth, speeds up on Jon's dick.

Jon wants to make it good for Tommy, wants to make sure Tommy remembers him this time. But he's too close himself to be careful now, and he throws back his head, not thinking of Tommy's room in Chicago or the hotel room in Dubuque or the bus to Cedar Rapids, just feeling Tommy's teeth on his neck and his hand on Jon's cock. Just hearing Tommy whisper, "Jon, Jon, Jon," just coming into Tommy's hand, gasping, trying to find Tommy's mouth again, dropping Tommy's cock long enough to smear his hand with his own come and then reach for Tommy again, sliding his hand wet over Tommy's length. Just feeling Tommy tremble against him and then come with a sigh and rest his head against Jon's. Just hearing him say, "I remember too," and then go quiet.

 

*

 

"I have something to tell you," Jon tells Lovett on the phone that night.

"I know, I know, you can't write the State of the Union without me. Send me a draft when the time comes, I'll fix it."

"Not about that," says Jon. He drops back on his bed and stares at the ceiling. "Um, are you alone?" He knows Lovett isn't even in LA yet. First he'd flown to Long Island to see his folks.

"I'm in my childhood bedroom with the door closed," Lovett says. "It's just you and me and my high school math prizes."

"Okay," says Jon, trying to gather his courage.

"You wanna know what I'm wearing?"

"Lovett—"

"Sorry!" yelps Lovett. "I forgot I can't hit on you anymore! Pretend I didn't tell you anything about my sexy airplane duvet."

"You didn't," says Jon. "But definitely tell me more about that instead of me telling you about the, um, thing."

"The thing," Lovett repeats. "Wait, oh my god, Jon, is this about Tommy?"

Jon closes his eyes. "Yes, Lovett."

"I fucking knew it!" Lovett crows. "You two were so fucking weird last night, oh my god, I've never seen a more obvious case of unfinished business."

"Well," says Jon, mortified. He thought he'd been pretty cool about the whole thing in front of Lovett, but apparently not.

"Jesus, that was fast. You didn't waste any time, did you?"

"I guess not," says Jon. "Anyway, sounds like you know what I'm talking about, so discussion over. When's your flight to LA?"

"Oh no," says Lovett. "Absolutely not, Jonathan Favreau. You have years of deception and secrecy to make up for. I'll take every single detail, thanks."

"Ugh," says Jon. He drops his voice, even though he's alone in his condo. "I mean, basically we were texting—"

"Dirty texts!" Lovett squawks.

"Sort of? Mainly I was just, um, a little upset that he was acting like it didn't even matter. And then he stopped by my office. And then, like, you know."

"No, I don't know," says Lovett innocently. "Why don't you tell me? I hear you have a way with words."

"Jesus, Lovett," says Jon. "We jerked each other off, okay?"

There's a silence on the line.

"Lovett, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," says Lovett. "I'm great. In your _office_?"

"The door was locked!" says Jon.

"I can't believe you despoiled the White House with your semen," says Lovett. "I should call the Secret Service."

"Please don't do that," says Jon. "Anyway, now you know, so—"

"Don't you dare hang up," says Lovett. "You were painting a beautiful if borderline treasonous word-picture. Please continue."

"Continue how?" says Jon irritably. "What else is there to know?"

"Was it good? Did you kiss? Did you talk?"

"It was—good," says Jon. "Yeah."

"I feel that as the most prominent speechwriter in the world you should probably practice your communication skills," says Lovett. "Are you gonna do it again?"

"I—maybe?" Jon thought for a moment. "I hope so."

"This is amazing," says Lovett. "Maybe you can finally chill Tommy the fuck out."

"It's not really like that," says Jon. "I don't think."

"Are you sure?" says Lovett. "Think about when he comes out of the Sit Room in a state of frozen panic. He'd feel so much better with a dick to suck."

"Lovett!" But Jon could feel himself hardening a little in his jeans, just thinking about Tommy needing him like that.

"Or, like. You're trying to write about the economy but you can't figure out how to make all the recovery stats inspiring. Then you realize…you're not gonna be able to fix it until Tommy bends you over a desk."

"You seem to have given this a creepy amount of thought," says Jon. He adjusts himself carefully, so Lovett can't hear any telltale rustling.

"Oh, I'm the creepy one," says Lovett. "You're the one telling me sex stories with my parents down the hall."

"I would be happy," Jon lies, "to never tell you anything again."

"Not a chance," says Lovett. "I'm expecting a full report every single time."

"Don't you think that's like…a violation of Tommy's privacy?" Jon asks.

"Are you kidding?" says Lovett. "I'm calling him as soon as I get off the phone with you. He made me a promise too!"

"…Oh," says Jon. He'd forgotten. Tommy's going to talk about him to Lovett. Lovett and Tommy are going to _discuss_ him. "Tell me what he says."

"Tell _you_ what my friend Tommy shares with me in confidence?" says Lovett. "I would never."

 

*

 

Wednesday is a super busy day at the White House.

"Hey man," Jon says, standing in the doorway of Tommy's office like he just casually happened to pass that way.

"Hey," says Tommy.

They stare at each other.

"So what's happening in…Russia?" Jon asks.

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Come in, Jon."

Jon does, and closes the door after him even though he doesn't have any time to talk or—whatever. Tommy's desk is piled with binders and stacks of paper with colored tabs sticking out of them and he probably wouldn't like it if Jon swept them all aside.

"It's crazy today," says Jon.

"Yeah," says Tommy. "I'm working on this statement…"

"Me too," says Jon quickly. "Just, like, did you talk to Lovett?"

Tommy clears his throat. "I always keep my promises."

"Did you keep them in detail?" Jon asks.

"Is that a problem?" Tommy parries.

"No!" says Jon. "I mean, I talked to him too."

"It was…an interesting conversation," says Tommy. His cheeks are going pink.

"We should've told him three years ago," says Jon, wondering whether Lovett made as many imaginative suggestions to Tommy as he had to Jon.

"Yeah," says Tommy, leaning back in his chair. "That would've meant, like, dealing with it. I didn't even—I wasn't sure what it was."

"I still don't know," says Jon.

"It's like—" says Tommy, and then shakes his head. "I don't get it either. Come over here."

Jon's throat goes dry. He goes to Tommy because he can't not go to Tommy when Tommy's looking at him like that. Still, he checks his watch. "We can't—"

"One minute," says Tommy, tilting his head up. "Give me something to shock Lovett with." Jon looks into Tommy's dark blue eyes and leans down to kiss him. He means it to be quick, dry, a promise for later, for tomorrow, when POTUS doesn't have an event in a few hours, but in seconds it's hot and insistent instead, Tommy gripping the back of his neck. He's about to put a knee on the edge of Tommy's chair when the Blackberry on Tommy's desk goes off.

Jon pulls away fast. Tommy picks up the call. "Yeah, Ben." His voice is rough.

Jon is backing quietly away.

"I talked to the _Times_ this morning," Tommy's telling Ben. He mouths, "I’m sorry," to Jon.

Jon shrugs with elaborate unconcern, but he has to position his clipboard in front of his crotch before he opens the door. It's fine. In five minutes he has a meeting to run.

 

*

 

"Just a kiss?" says Lovett, late Wednesday night. "That's it?"

"It was a really good kiss!" Jon argues. It was weird how much he'd looked forward to telling Lovett about it, and now Lovett is disappointingly unimpressed.

"This is some ninth grade nonsense," says Lovett. "You play Spin the Bottle one time and you feel like you just lost your virginity."

"I never played Spin the Bottle," says Jon thoughtfully. "Is that actually a real thing?"

"Not if you ask the junior soccer captain at Syosset High School," says Lovett. "He'll definitely tell you nothing happened at that party, especially nothing involving me."

"Oh, Lovett." Jon imagines young, fresh-faced Lovett having his heart broken by the soccer captain. "I wish I'd been at that party. I would've—"

"No, you wouldn't," says Lovett.

"I wouldn't have kissed you?" Even saying the possibility out loud makes Jon's heart speed up a little.

"Maybe you would've," says Lovett evenly. "And then you would've acted like it didn't happen and never spoken to me again."

The probable truth of this is so dispiriting Jon wants to go back in time and sock himself in the jaw. "Tommy and I stayed best friends though."

"Yeah, that's good," says Lovett. "Apparently by the time Barack Obama became president you guys were mature adults who had totally come to terms with what happened between you."

"We're working on it," says Jon.

"Oh," says Lovett. "I thought you were kissing."

Jon clears his throat. "I did want to do more than that, you know."

Lovett's voice gets low. "What did you want, exactly?"

Jon closes his eyes and thinks of Tommy leaning back in his chair. "When he said to come over," Jon starts. "I, um."

"You wanted to get on your knees and crawl to him?"

Jon frowns, confused. "Did I already say that? How did you know?"

Lovett sighs. "I have actually experienced Tommy being bossy before, Jon."

"Oh," says Jon.

"It's relatable," says Lovett. "What else?"

"He stayed sitting down. So I, like, really wanted to get into his lap. Straddle him."

"Keep talking."

"And then Ben called."

"Damn it," says Lovett.

"I know," says Jon. He wishes he had a better story for Lovett.

"You're just going to have to do better than this. I'm flying out to LA tomorrow, I wanna hear something good when I land."

"I'll try," says Jon. He wants to make up for Lovett's soccer captain. He wants to make up for himself.

 

*

 

It's Thursday morning, and Alyssa is leading a cross-departmental meeting about the upcoming foreign trip. Jon and Tommy are across from each other at the end of the table and no one is paying attention to them. Every time Jon looks over at Tommy, Tommy is paging through his binder attentively. Sometimes he picks up his pen to scrawl a note in the margins. He looks extremely competent and professional, like he's ready to navigate a humanitarian crisis in several different languages.

Looking at Tommy, _Jon_ feels like a humanitarian crisis. He coughs, and Tommy's eyes dart over to him. Jon licks his lips. Tommy straightens up in his chair. Stealthily, Jon pulls out his phone and opens up his last messaging thread with Tommy.

_Are you busy after this_

A moment later he sees Tommy squirm. He seems to be trying to get his phone out of his pocket. Then Tommy looks down at his lap. He must be reading the message, because his face gets very serious and just slightly pinker.

 _Worst pick-up line,_ Tommy sends back.

_Well are you_

_Listen to Alyssa you slacker._ Somehow Tommy is texting without even looking at his phone.

Jon looks down at his phone, because he's not a fucking ninja like some people, and carefully types, _Rather listen to you moaning my name_

Tommy shoots Jon a look of pure outrage and makes a show of turning off his phone and putting it back in his pocket.

Dan says, "Can we all focus, please?"

After Alyssa dismisses them, Jon jostles up against Tommy in the hallway.

Tommy says, "We could just hang out after work like normal people."

"We could. Or there's that room on the top floor that got stripped for renovation. No one goes in there like ever."

"Jesus," says Tommy. "Okay."

Jon lets the back of his hand brush against the back of Tommy's hand as they walk.

"You know," says Tommy, low but conversational. "You were never like this in Chicago. I used to have to strategize to get you alone."

"Like it was hard," says Jon.

"You were shy," says Tommy, as they go up the side staircase. "you didn't tell me what you wanted. I didn't even know if it was okay to kiss you."

"We were really fucking young, Tommy," says Jon. "It was always okay to—"

"Kiss you?" Tommy is darting glances back and forth like maybe the White House hook-up police are after them.

"To anything me," says Jon, and then, "The room over there."

It's dusty and bare of furniture except for a broken chair in the corner and some cardboard boxes. Jon shuts the door and feels suddenly stupid bringing Tommy here, the least sexy place in the entire White House. Tommy is placing his things carefully in a corner though, like he plans to stay awhile. "For example, it's okay to kiss me right now," Jon says. "Tommy?"

"Hold on," says Tommy. "I'm looking at you."

"Give me a break, Tommy." Jon's cheeks feel hot. He shrugs off his suit jacket and hangs it over the broken chair.

"I mean, it's not like I could do that in the meeting," says Tommy. "Because one of us had to pay attention. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"That I wanted us to be the only ones in the room," says Jon, tugging at Tommy's tie. "So I could slide under the table and suck your dick."

"See?" Tommy says, voice a little hoarser than usual. "In 2008 you didn't say things like that."

"Because I was scared to! Lovett says I need to work on my communication skills."

"Lovett says a lot of things," Tommy agrees. For a moment his big warm hands cover Jon's at his throat. Then he lets Jon finish pulling the knot of his tie free and start to unbutton his shirt.

Jon wants to lick every freckle he uncovers. He can feel Tommy's nipples tighten under his thumbs. "Why were you so—we could've been doing this! We could've—" But he doesn't even know what they're doing now, let alone what they could've been doing three years ago if they hadn't started—concentrating on the transition instead.

"I didn't know," says Tommy miserably. "I thought it was too much, I thought I'd mess things up for you. I was a press secretary and you were writing the fucking inauguration address."

"Oh, Tommy." Jon bites at Tommy's neck where he's been kissing him. "I thought you just didn't want me like that anymore."

"I never didn't want you," Tommy says, and pushes him to the wall. Jon is moving against him, trying to get his hard-on in the right place, when his phone rings. He freezes, suddenly sure that POTUS is about to walk in and find his mind-reader up against a wall. Tommy's jaw tightens, and then he pulls the phone out of Jon's pocket and accepts the call.

"Dan? It's Tommy."

Jon grabs for the phone.

"Jon's busy right now," Tommy says firmly, and ends the call.

"Asshole," says Jon. "Now he's gonna know."

"He always knew," said Tommy, putting the phone back in Jon's pocket, stroking over Jon's dick while he's in the vicinity. "He's the one who told Lovett."

"Oh," says Jon, whimpering a little. He'd never even thought to ask who told him. It just seemed so natural, Lovett figuring out all his secrets in the end. "That's—fine, then." He never actually told Dan not to tell, because that would have required admitting something was going on in the first place. Anyway, it's hard to worry about it, with Tommy sliding his knee between Jon's legs, bending in to kiss him again, starting to grind slowly and purposefully against him.

Jon wants to ride Tommy's thigh and he wants to cry with frustration because they have too many clothes on and he can't get close enough. "Wait," he says. He turns around, puts his hands on the wall, pushes his ass back against Tommy. "Like this."

Tommy groans and runs his hands down Jon's body. His breath is hot on Jon's neck as he reaches around to undo Jon's pants.

"Another thing I was thinking in the meeting," says Jon. "That I wanted to sit on your dick."

"Fucking hell—Jon—" Tommy's hands clench on Jon's hips.

"Fuck me," says Jon, just to be absolutely clear. It crosses his mind, briefly and crazily, that Lovett would be proud of him.

Tommy draws in his breath. "We never did that. Before, I mean. You never asked for that."

"I wanted it though," says Jon, and pushes his pants and boxers down over his hips.

"You never said," says Tommy, running his hands over Jon's ass. "You never said a fucking thing."

"Well," says Jon. "It seemed kind of gay at the time."

He waits for Tommy to laugh at him, but Tommy just sighs and says, "I know what you mean."

"But we can do it now?"

"I don't—no." Tommy's unzipping himself. Jon can hear his soft groan when he pulls himself free. "Not unless you brought lube to the meeting."

"It doesn't matter." Jon can feel Tommy's cock at the split of his ass. It just seems like it should go somewhere. It just seems like Jon should take him in. "Tommy, come on, I wanna feel you—"

But Tommy seems annoyed. "Do you even know how this works? I'd hurt you."

"So hurt me," Jon says, before he can even think about it.

"Oh my god, shut up," says Tommy. He holds Jon's hips, rubs himself against Jon's ass.

"Tommy…" Jon whines. He grabs one of Tommy's hands, brings it to his mouth, sucks two of his fingers in.

"That won't be—good enough," says Tommy, but he's pushing himself against Jon's ass in short, jerky thrusts. His fingers press on Jon's tongue. Jon moans around his fingers, ruts back against Tommy, thinks of Tommy inside him, filling him up.

Tommy takes his fingers from Jon's mouth, dripping. "Do it," Jon says. "Get yourself wet, put it in me." But Tommy just drops his hand to Jon's hard cock. He spreads Jon's spit over the head and down Jon's shaft and holds Jon still against him when Jon gasps.

"I got you," Tommy tells him.

" _Fuck_ me," says Jon. "God damn it, Tommy."

For a moment Tommy's cock bumps up against Jon's hole.

"Yes," says Jon urgently.

"No," says Tommy, "No, we're not gonna do that right now." It sounds like he's telling himself as much as he's telling Jon. "Let me just—let me—" He slides his fist fast and tight along Jon's dick, rubbing his thumb over the head, and Jon moans, giving in. "That's right," Tommy says, "Come on, babe—" and Jon shoots against the wall, legs going weak.

Tommy lets him go down to his knees, holding him so he lands easy. "Oh my god, Tommy," Jon gasps. "Oh my god."

"Jon, please—" Tommy's voice is strained. "Turn around, I want—"

Jon turns clumsily on his knees, pants around his thighs, and looks up at Tommy, who's working his dick so slow Jon can tell he's trying not to come. "Yeah," Jon says, licking his lips, and Tommy groans and reaches for Jon's jaw, pushes his cock in. This they've done before, but it's been a few years. Jon sucks at Tommy's cock, takes too much in, chokes and lets it slip from his slack mouth. "Jon," Tommy moans, cock bobbing at Jon's lips. Jon mouths at the slick head. He's just about to go down again when Tommy comes, splattering his mouth, nose, cheek.

"I'm sorry," says Tommy immediately. "Oh, Jon—"

Jon puts his fingers to the wet streak on his cheeks. Tommy's jizz is on his face.

"Jesus," says Tommy, and drops to his knees facing Jon.

Jon puts his fingers to his mouth to taste and Tommy flinches like he's been hit.

"You're. So beautiful," Tommy says. He reaches out to touch Jon's lips.

"You should come over to my place tonight," says Jon, his face wet with Tommy's come.

 

*

 

Lovett picks up after the second ring.

"What now," he says. "I'm very busy signing contracts with several Hollywood moguls."

"So you're unpacking your socks," says Jon. "How was the flight? How's your apartment? How's LA?"

"The flight was fine, the apartment is boring. It's sunny here, I guess. Does that cover it? I'm very happy except that I'm not famous yet and now I'm all alone."

Jon frowns. He hates to think of Lovett being lonely. Lovett should always have people around him, to laugh at his jokes and squash him whenever necessary. "Andy will be out there soon."

"Another handsome Favreau boy will be such a comfort," Lovett says, without conviction. "When are you moving?"

"I'm very happy in my current position," says Jon.

"Yes, let's talk about your current position," says Lovett. "Physically."

"I'm just, um, lying on the sofa in my sweatpants," says Jon. "Waiting for Tommy to come over and fuck me."

"You're both monsters. I've unleashed a fucking monster."

"Pretty much," says Jon. "You're the one who wanted a Penthouse letter for a housewarming gift."

"Fine," said Lovett. "I'm not a bit jealous. You know, back when I was the one waiting for Tommy to come home, I had much lower expectations. _My friend Tommy will be home soon,_ I'd think. _Maybe he'll tell me something interesting about his day!_ "

"That might be all I get too," said Jon. "He seemed kind of stressed out on the phone. I'm worried that if you've been discussing global disease outbreaks, maybe you don't want to have sex right after."

"That's literally exactly when you wanna have sex," Lovett says. "It's the death-sex connection. Remember my Pentagon boyfriend? He was insatiable."

"He was an asshole," says Jon, momentarily diverted.

"I know," says Lovett mournfully. "He just had such a good dick. Can I say that now? Can we talk about dick now that you're retroactively bisexual? How's Tommy's dick?"

"Uh."

"Wow, such a wordsmith," says Lovett. "He thinks you're really hot, by the way. He keeps telling me about your arms and your face and blah blah blah and I'm like, for fuck's sake, Tommy, I didn't spend the last four years wearing a blindfold."

Jon's heart lurches. "Oh, he's been, uh. Very forthcoming then."

"I have a close and confidential relationship to my best friends," says Lovett. "Who made me a promise and now they can't shut up. Not that I'm complaining, it's good for my screenplay."

"Because that's all this is about."

"Of course," says Lovett. "It's not like I've ever been personally invested in you or Tommy, I'm just using you for my art."

"If you write about us," says Jon, "I will never tell you anything ever again."

"It's like you don't trust me to be tasteful."

"Correct," says Jon. "If I told you I went down on my knees today and Tommy came on my face, you'd probably turn it into something vulgar and inappropriate."

Lovett's intake of breath is audible. "I would not. I would focus on the _aesthetic_. Did you get jizz in your eyelashes?"

"Definitely not," says Jon. "What else does Tommy say about me?"

"Nothing much," says Lovett. "He doesn't wanna come on too strong, but also he's gonna hold you down and give it to you so hard. Very original, just the kind of insecure toppy bullshit you would expect."

Jon makes a small noise.

"Jon," says Lovett. "Are you okay? Are you jerking off right now?"

"No." This is technically correct. Jon has his hand on his dick but he's not actually moving it or anything. "Are you?"

"Fuck," says Lovett, his voice cracking. "What the fuck is happening here?"

Jon's phone vibrates. _Ok I'm done._

"Tommy says the meeting's over."

"Tell me one more thing before you get off the phone," says Lovett.

"He—" Jon hesitates.

"Jon." Lovett sounds breathless. "Tommy's dick."

Jon closes his eyes. "He's so big, I couldn't keep him in my mouth."

"God _damn_ it," says Lovett, and Jon ends the call.

 

*

 

On Jon's doorstep, Tommy looks tired. He's not wearing a tie anymore. His suit is wrinkled, his face drawn. "Hey, buddy."

"Get in here, Tom," Jon says, low, and practically yanks Tommy into his apartment. "You okay? How was the meeting, are we all gonna die?"

"That's classified," says Tommy, starting to grin. Politely, he takes off his shoes by the door. He drops his laptop bag on Jon's floor. He throws his suit jacket over a chair.

"You need food? You want a drink?" Jon pulls his t-shirt over his head, just to give Tommy another alternative.

Tommy reaches for him without answering. Their mouths open against each other. "Take your shirt off," Jon says, after they kiss for a minute.

Tommy's shirt is sticking to him a little. "It's so fucking hot," Tommy says.

" _You're_ fucking hot," says Jon fervently.

Tommy laughs. "I don't know how to do this," he says. "Like if we're not sneaking around and we're not on an urgent deadline, how the hell does it work?"

Jon drags his eyes down Tommy's body. "Pretend we're at a hotel in Des Moines if it's easier."

"Oh, like we've been getting each other off for months but we don't talk about it?"

"Yeah, and no matter where we are we always do it as fast as possible."

Tommy swallows. "You want to, um, go slow tonight?"

Jon reaches out and rubs Tommy's cheek. "You have all this invisible stubble. Do you still shave twice a week?"

"Three times now," says Tommy. He catches Jon's hand. "Jon?"

"Next time, sure," says Jon. "Tonight I heard you were gonna hold me down and give it to me hard."

Tommy's blush is spreading down his pale, freckled chest. "I was just, like, free associating. We don't actually have to—"

"Tommy."

"Okay," breathes Tommy, and reaches out for Jon again. Feeling Tommy's bare chest against his makes Jon a little dizzy. Tommy's hands roam over Jon's ass. "Let's go to your bedroom," he says. "Not a hotel room in Des Moines."

Tommy's shirt is gone and his pants are undone by the time they get there. Jon sits on the edge of the bed and watches Tommy get a condom out of his back pocket before taking his pants off and peeling off his socks. He's clearly hard in his boxers.

"I got lube," says Jon. "Since it means so much to you."

Tommy looks worried. "You'll tell me if you hate this, right? I've never done it with a guy, so—"

"Tom. Remember how you've never caused a single nuclear incident."

"Reassuring as usual," says Tommy, and pushes Jon down onto the bed.

"I don't hate it yet," Jon immediately reports.

Tommy rolls his eyes and pulls at the waistband of Jon's sweatpants. Jon lifts his hips obediently for Tommy to slide them off. He's not wearing anything underneath.

"Fuck, Jon." Tommy's straddling him, running his hands down Jon's body.

"Lovett says I should be your stress reliever," Jon says. "You come out of your briefings and text me that you need me and I wait for you in my office."

"Jon." Tommy's face looks actually pained.

"You give it to me," Jon says breathlessly, "any way that you need me—" and then he can't talk any more because Tommy's kissing him again like he wants to swallow Jon whole. Tommy's body is heavy and hot on top of him. Jon strokes down his back, slides his hands under Tommy's boxers, squeezes his ass, and when Tommy groans, he thinks _maybe sometime_. He wants to do everything with Tommy. Tommy moves against him, finally getting his boxers off. Their cocks are hard between them.

"So good," Tommy's mumbling. "Jon, baby—" Then he's kissing Jon's jaw, his neck, licking at his chest, lifting himself up so he can get his hand on Jon's dick.

"Tommy, please—" Jon reaches out blindly for the lube he left on the night table, and shoves it over to Tommy.

"Yeah." Tommy bends his head and then his mouth is hot on Jon's cock.

Jon gasps, jerks up uncontrollably. Tommy holds his hips against the bed and takes him deeper, working his tongue wetly against Jon's cock.

"Have you been doing this," Jon gasps, a hand in Tommy's hair. "Like, since me."

Tommy lifts his head. His lips are shining. "No?"

"Oh," says Jon, and leans back against the pillows. Of course Tommy would just happen to be good at it anyway.

"I like it," says Tommy simply. "I always liked it. Bend your knees?" He ducks his head between Jon's legs again. Jon closes his eyes, feels Tommy touching his balls, then further back, probing at his hole with one slick finger. It's cold and strange for a moment before Tommy's mouth is back on his cock. Jon cries out when he feels Tommy's finger pressing in.

"You're okay," Tommy assures him, lips moving so close to his cock Jon can feel his breath. "I’m gonna do two now."

"Yeah, good." Jon draws his knees up higher, to make it easier. Tommy rubs at his hole with two fingers and Jon wants him in. Tommy's going so slow it takes a moment before he gets past the rim. It feels good, full, and then it feels _really_ good. Tommy fucks his fingers in and in. Jon gasps and writhes. "Tommy, Tommy, stop."

Tommy stills. "It hurts?"

"A little, it doesn't matter...But I'm gonna, I'm gonna—"

"Oh," Tommy breathes. Carefully, he pulls his fingers out.

"Wanna come with your cock in me."

"Jesus, Jon," says Tommy. "You wanna, um, roll over, or—"

"No," says Jon immediately, pushing himself up on the bed. "Just—kiss me, Tommy, c'mere, I want you—"

"I'm here," says Tommy, and his mouth is on Jon's, lips hot.

He's fumbling with something and Jon realizes he's opening up the condom. Jon doesn't want Tommy to worry about that. He doesn't want him to worry about anything. "You don't have to, Tom."

Tommy gives him a look and rolls it on carefully. Then he goes for the lube again, slicking more over the whole rigid length of him. It doesn't seem to Jon like Tommy's cock is really going to fit inside his body and also Jon wants it immediately. Then Tommy's pushing him gently down again with one hand to his shoulder. "Like this, I think," says Tommy, arranging Jon so he can—oh god, so he can put his big dick to Jon's hole and start slowly pushing in.

It feels huge inside him. Jon can't think, he can't speak. He doesn't realize he's moaning until Tommy touches his face, says, "Jon? You okay?"

"Okay," Jon gasps. He wants Tommy deeper. "Please—Tom—"

"Fuck," Tommy chokes out, and then with one more thrust he's all the way in. He's still for a moment, breathing hard. "Jon, I—"

"Me too," says Jon stupidly. "Just, just _fuck_ me, don't stop—"

Tommy makes a low, hurt noise, and then he does. He fucks Jon until the thick slide of his cock is lighting Jon up inside and Jon's clutching at him desperately. When the noises Jon makes turn into one high, helpless stream, Tommy reaches between them to slide his fist over Jon's cock, his fingers still slick with lube. It takes barely two twists of Tommy's hand for Jon to clench down hard on Tommy's cock and come.

"Baby," Tommy breathes out, staring down at him, and then he's driving in hard again, chest glistening with sweat. Jon keeps his eyes open so he can see how Tommy looks at him. He thought he remembered, but he didn't remember really. It feels completely new, the way Tommy's face goes soft when he comes.

"See? We could've done that in Dubuque," says Jon, once Tommy's collapsed heavily on top of him, his face in Jon's neck.

"I'm sorry I didn't fuck you in 2007," says Tommy, muffled.

Jon pets Tommy's sweaty hairline. "It's okay. I didn't fuck you either."

"Then I'm sorry I stopped jerking you off in 2008."

"Yeah, that was dumb," says Jon. "You should give me so many handjobs to make up for it."

"Noted," says Tommy. "Okay, I'm gonna—" He pulls out.

Jon winces. "My ass feels weird now."

"Felt great to me, dude," says Tommy. He tosses the tied-off condom into a wastebasket and grins when Jon punches him.

"I'm gonna go clean up," says Jon.

"I'll be right here coming to terms with my sexual identity," says Tommy.

Jon looks at Tommy's long body, pale skin marked with red where Jon's hands had been. "Let me know how that goes."

When Jon gets out of the bathroom, Tommy's stretched out on his back talking on the phone. He's got a proud smile on his face.

"Obviously," Tommy's saying. He holds up a hand to catch the washcloth Jon tosses to him. "It's Lovett," he mouths to Jon.

"Tell him I said hi," says Jon.

"Oh yeah, yeah, he loved it," Tommy says into the phone.

"Tommy!"

"I'm keeping my promise," says Tommy. "C'mere."

Jon drops down next to Tommy on the bed. "What are you telling him?"

Tommy puts a hand on his thigh. "Basically just how bad you want it."

Jon's close enough to hear Lovett laugh. "Go on then," Jon says.

"He's so fucking pretty when he's taking it," Tommy tells Lovett, his eyes on Jon. "He makes these noises, god, Lovett, you should hear him."

"That's enough," says Jon, and rips the phone away from Tommy. "Hey, Lovett."

"Hey, Jon. I hear you're an insatiable trollop."

"You're getting a biased picture here," says Jon.

"Feel free to add depth and context."

"Are you gonna, um—you planning to get off, Lovett?"

There's a pause. "You don't think that would be predatory of me? I'd hate to keep you two from your afterglow."

Jon darts a glance at Tommy; Tommy nods. "I feel like there's enough glow here for all of us," says Jon.

"In that case," says Lovett, "you two already got off, so helping me out is only fair. Tell me about Tommy in bed, Jon."

"Well," says Jon, as Tommy rolls closer, drapes himself half on top of him. "He's extremely considerate—"

"Oh, gross," says Lovett.

"—he's a psycho, basically. Manhandling me. Just like threw me on the bed, swallowed me down."

"Ohhhh," says Lovett. "He sucked your dick?"

"His fucking mouth, Lovett. Hasn't sucked cock since—"

"—Election night, 2008," says Tommy, loud enough for Lovett to hear. Jon can feel Tommy hardening a little against his thigh.

"And it's like he's starving for it. Can't get enough." 

"Oh, god," says Lovett quietly.

"I had to tell him to stop so I could get him in me—"

Lovett's breathing has gone ragged. Jon thinks of him there in his new apartment, maybe wearing one of his stupid science shirts, hair long enough to go curly again. One hand in his unzipped jeans, listening to Jon and Tommy talk shit. It seems awful, suddenly, that he's so far away. That Jon and Tommy had just let him go.

"Jon," says Lovett urgently. "What else?"

Jon closes his eyes. "If you were here, I'd let you fuck me too."

Lovett's soft cry comes just before Tommy bats the phone away from Jon's ear and kisses him. Jon opens his mouth for Tommy's tongue, rolls over on top of him. He's half-hard again, his head spinning. "Is that okay?" he asks when he can speak. "Sorry, Tommy—"

"You're an idiot," Tommy says. He holds the phone to his ear. "Lovett? You still there? Jon's worried now. It's like he thinks I don't know how he feels about you." His voice goes low and sweet. "Or, um, how I feel about you."

Jon can't hear what Lovett's saying, but he can hear that there's some kind of monologue in progress. Tommy sighs. "No, Lovett, actually we _weren't_ planning to get married, become a gay power couple, and never speak to you again."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," says Jon. He sits up, straddling Tommy.

"In case you haven't noticed," Tommy tells Lovett, "we found out that we made a very big mistake before because it turns out we like keeping you informed…Yes, Lovett. Yes, I like it too. Jesus." He hands the phone to Jon. "You talk to him."

Lovett is speaking very fast and unnecessarily loud. "Look, I'm really happy to have gotten you two back together and the phone sex was definitely a well-deserved token of appreciation and probably the best thing I'll ever be able to write in my diary but I just want you to know that I'm not expecting anything else."

" _I_ am, though," says Jon. He looks down at Tommy. "I mean, I think we both are."

"Like what?" asks Lovett suspiciously.

"I meant what I said," says Jon. "If you want it."

"Jon, you asshole," says Lovett. "You miserable _bastard_. We spend three fucking years together with the two of you completely off limits and as soon as I move two thousand miles away you offer your ass up on a platter? What the fuck is _wrong_ with you people?"

"Or we could just play Spin the Bottle!" Jon says brightly. He gives the phone back to Tommy.

"So you guys worked it out?" Tommy asks Lovett. "Oh, right. Yes, it's sickening. Jon is terrible, I hate him too. Talk to you later, okay? We have to be in early tomorrow." He puts the phone down. "You wanna fool around?"

"Yeah," says Jon thoughtfully, tracing Tommy's lips with one absent finger. "You know what, Tommy…"

"What?" Tommy's voice is muffled, because he's trying to suck Jon's finger into his mouth.

"I've always liked LA," Jon says. "Think about it."

 

** Epilogue **

_[INT: A house in LA. NILS is sitting on the couch. BEAU is kneeling on the floor between his legs giving him a blowjob.]_

_NILS: I love LA._

_BEAU: I love your…intellectual curiosity._

_NILS: Only I feel like something's missing for me today, you know? Something's just not right._

_BEAU [lifting his head, spit trailing from his mouth to the head of NILS's dick]: That's because Ira's not back from his meeting with Martin Scorcese yet._

_NILS: That's it! God, what even was sex before we met Ira?_

_BEAU: He's cute, smart, funny...and just so devastatingly hot._

_[IRA appears in the doorway. He radiates sex and power.]_

_IRA: Hi, boys. Did you miss me?_

"Lovett!" Tommy yells from downstairs. "Get the hell down here, we're waiting for you!"

Lovett puts down his pen and closes his diary. "I'm coming!"

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr post is [here](https://valencing.tumblr.com/post/170851635172/dear-diary-by-threeturnvalencing-126k)!


End file.
